


Dressed Like a King

by Nightlock



Series: Kings of Kyrat [1]
Category: Far Cry (Video Games), Far Cry 4
Genre: M/M, Pajay - Freeform, Post Game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-04
Updated: 2015-09-04
Packaged: 2018-04-19 01:22:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4727462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nightlock/pseuds/Nightlock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pagan finally gets a chance to show Ajay the custom suit he promised him. Set after the game. (Rated for depictions of violence and language).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dressed Like a King

“I'm starting to think you all mean to suffocate the poor boy.” The rich sound of Pagan’s voice was like a gentle chime through the foggy noise thrumming in Ajay's head. It was a miracle he could even hear wit the the thick material of the burlap bag further obstructing his hearing. Of all the noise Pagan's voice was what pierced through the clearest and was the most recognizable. A million and one questions were swarming through Ajay's mind but they were all like sand grains slipping through his fingers. He couldn't hold onto anything at the moment and he didn't really care to. Everything was just _weird_. 

Ajay felt like he was floating but the weight of his retrains kept him anchored to reality. Apparently he was drugged by some means and the confirmation of Pagan's coaxing voice only confirmed one thing to Ajay: that he was once _again_ kidnapped. How it happened he wasn't exactly sure; it was blur really. The last he remembered before waking up to fabric darkness was that he was on his way to the Ghale homestead. Ajay was hardly there for the sake of sentimental reasons-even with the traditional home rebuilt to its former glory of his heritage- because he felt foreign within its walls. It was his family's home he inherited more or less but it wasn't _him_. This was his father and mother's legacy but it was just a history book to him. Something so close to his family was so far away. Even with his family’s heirloom, the Ghale Thangka, back to its rightful place with Ajay’s heritage intact he didn't feel like he knew anymore than he already knew. He had learned more from that patriotic asshole than he did within the walls of his home. Still, it was home away from home sort of speak. Ajay was a man of Kyrat now and so he gravitated towards the homestead as a means of comfort. It was the only place he felt was truly safe from the evils roaming the Kyrati lands. Well, it was up high enough to be anyway. Besides a sense of security Ajay had went to the homestead for reflection of everything and himself after his 'liberating' actions towards freeing Kyrat from its tyranny. 

Ajay felt that he needed to reflect on the decisions he made that led towards his current present as the words “all choices have consequences” echoed loud in his ears every so often. It had become a mantra thanks to the former king. When Ajay did hear these words he always heard Pagan’s voice recite them and no other way. He wanted to replace the voice of the former king with his mother or anyone else he respected with the capacity of wisdom to say them but they remained in the voice from their source. It wasn't a bad lesson and that's what scared Ajay. That's what made hating Pagan Min so difficult. That’s what he learned the hard way.

When Ajay was roaming Kyrat, fighting alongside the Golden Path against the Red Army and their propaganda, in some twisted-almost grotesque-way he could not urge himself to kill Pagan Min upon the multiple opportunities that were given to do so. He stood right before the man who gave him the choice to either shoot him or enjoy an expensive dinner and talk and although Ajay's hand was on the trigger he had…faltered. The gun in his hands suddenly felt too heavy to hold despite it being a mere hand gun. It was the weight of an entire fucking country and his own future in his hands and Ajay let that weight weigh his hands down into a voluntary submission. Something about the way Pagan stared at him as he casually chewed a forkful of food and how his posture was so open and vulnerable made him realize Pagan had already known what the young man was going to do. It wasn't a question of if Ajay would shoot him, no, it was a question of how long it'd take for the little shit to sit down and eat; a meal way past due from their first initial meeting. With his gun again holstered Ajay sat down at the dining table, across from Pagan, and learned more about himself and his family within those spared moments with Pagan than he did throughout he entire country of Kyrat. It felt like a distorted sort of bond that he had with the older man; Ajay coming to this conclusion while staring at the man stationed at Lakshmana's doors. He was exhausted and worn and had given a aura of a sort of peace as though Ajay's presence was some sort of mending of his wounds that had been open and raw for years. Pagan Min was not a man above showing vulnerability, to him at least, and it was something that burrowed deep within Ajay. 

Ajay had never known the Pagan prior to entering Lakshmana's shrine that fateful day but he knew who stood before him now. Despite Ajay knowing of all his misdeeds and evils this moment rang within him to spare the former king. His second chance to kill this dictator who oppressed Kyrat for years again was able to escape the grasp of Ajay’s gun when he took the helicopter. With the final opportunity-as far as Ajay was concerned-presented itself with Pagan's helicopter within range to be shot down to end his life once and for all Ajay hesitated before he decided to let Pagan live... _again_. What the fuck was wrong with him? He raised his gun to Sabal, a man married to his country’s traditions and well being, and again to Amita, who was married to the change she felt Kyrat’s future needed, and he ended them both without a second thought upon realizing they were no better if not worse. Although they too were tyrants, in their own ways, they meant well for Kyrat. To Ajay they could be considered a lesser evil because although they were just as bad in terms of their ideals and actions to reach their goals they didn't know their own evils and in some sick way felt their way was the best for the Golden Path and the best for Kyrat. It was similar to children who disobeyed without knowledge of their wrong doing or overbearing parents with the idea that anything they did was right because the intent behind it all was love for their children. However, Pagan Min, the man he let walk away from death thrice already, he knew. He knew what he was doing, what he did, had full intent to do it with the worst intentions and walked the path to continue to do so. Behind his reasoning to do what he wanted was his late daughter's death and the loss of his lover but somehow Ajay knew that wasn't enough to justify the pain and suffering Pagan had dealt upon all of Kyrat and her people. He knew as Pagan knew of his own misdeeds and yet he couldn't kill this man. However, he felt a strong urge to kill him now. This was a man Ajay never thought he'd see again and yet here he was in his presence under the conditions of kidnapping. This was his life now.

“Go on, remove the bag off his head already!” Pagan ordered and it woke Ajay from his thoughts. Holy shit, he wasn’t sure if it was the somber darkness of the burlap bag over his face or after effects of recreational drug use he had with the druggie duo, Yogi and Reggie, but he went deep as fuck into his thoughts in a matter of minutes. Shit, this country is really messing him up, beyond messed up even.

The feeling of the sack being pulled over his face was the final wake from the catacombs of his mind. Ajay closed his eyes when they were met with what felt like blinding light. When they opened again and refocused they met with with the sight of Pagan smiling over him. He was sitting on the floor against the wall and he appeared to be back at Pagan’s palace. Apparently a part unknown to the world because the room wasn't familiar to Ajay at all despite exploring and living there for a few weeks after Pagan’s getaway. It was a huge place and a lot was to be confiscated to sell to raise money to better Kyrat. Ajay was overseer of the process for as long as he could be before leaving for the homestead so he pretty much was living their out of obligation of his final work with the Golden Path. That sounded great and all but somehow Ajay felt like he was more convincing himself that was his reasoning to stay at Pagan's former palace rather than maybe mourn the lose of the former king's presence and take in mentally what he could. 

“Hello, Ajay! Back to the world of the conscious I see. That's good, that's good. Sorry for all of…this again," Pagan said as he emphasized his words with the wave of his hand-moving across the room and guards in proximity-to show he meant the entirety of the situation he was sure Ajay was very confused and cautious about, "You see I rather you didn't know how you got here and you seem to be the type to…,”Pagan paused as he rolled his hand in thought thinking of proper wording for what he meant, “get a little _dramatic_ when approached by someone who is supposedly supposed to be gone and all so I did what was best for everyone.” Pagan smiled with a clasp of his hands. 

“I figured, hell, why not try for another fresh start. I took the liberty of using my main means of 'suggestion',” Pagan leaned forward to get a closer look at Ajay, “Well, I didn't do it personally but you get the idea.” Pagan corrected as he stared into Ajay’s eyes as though he were looking for something or as though something was missing perhaps? It made Ajay squirm a little but not out of nervous habit but he had felt uncomfortable from such an intense stare. What the hell was Pagan looking for? He was paying attention, well, as best he could given the circumstances of still being under drug affects and he was pretty damn tired. Ajay considered he was doing rather well despite being within the limbo between consciousness and sleep.

Fuck, either way, no matter how many times he was kidnapped against his will Ajay reassured himself he’ll never get used to it or Pagan’s attitude going on about it. It's was the fucking opposite of Christmas morning each time. Pagan frowned somewhat the moment Ajay’s tired eyes had morphed into a deathly glare. It was as if those eyes spoke to him. Pagan always relied on Ajay's eyes-especially since the man was damn near a mute. It was the first thing he recognized and acknowledged upon their first meeting after the bus attack. It was always the eyes. That anger-fueled glare took Pagan back for but a moment-a moment he remembered those eyes glaring disapprovingly at him in the past years ago over something or other-before he spoke. It may have taken Pagan off guard but it didn't make him fall out of his skin.

“Oh stop being so dramatic with that whole ‘where the hell did you come from’ look, it doesn't suit you, my boy. I'm still used to the whole ‘brooding-and-never-smiles’ attitude you have going on. I mean you knew it was me, right? Who the fuck else gives a damn where you are nowadays. I mean really, Ajay, you should have been able to figure out that much.” It wasn’t a question and Pagan had a point. With Sabal and Amita gone and the Golden Path without focused guidance Ajay was the last thing on anyone’s mind; especially compared to the 'warm welcome' he received upon his first arrival in Kyrat. The people of this damned country have pieces to pick up and put back together best they can to avoid the resemblance of Picasso art, a disorganized mess. 

The lands was still within the grips of civil war with the remaining Red Army-none the wiser to Pagan's whereabouts- trying to win back what they lost and keep control, the Golden Path defending what they claimed and trying to claim more, the deadly, aggressive animals were still a problem for friend and foe alike and the civilians were struggling to live everyday life from poverty and all of the above; so yeah, shits weren't given for Ajay right now. Besides he and the Golden Path weren't on the same page after he assassinated their two leaders so he hardly needed a reason to lay low nor did they to care of his whereabouts. He had become a vigilante rouge without a side of alliance and maybe, whether he admitted it or not, Kyrat really was his now. He didn't ask for this, Ajay didn't ask for anything, he just wanted to fulfill a dying wish to his mother. How it ended up like this even he didn't know.

Ajay glared though not because of anger but because Pagan was right about what he said and he hated the smugness that he could almost taste off the older man let alone feel it. Before Ajay could retort Pagan waggled his index-finger in front of Ajay’s face for silence. It almost worked. Almost.

“What the hell do you want?” It didn't come out as malicious as Ajay intended and that itself pissed himself off more than the blatant kidnapping for the fucking what?--third or forth time now. Ajay was glaring up at Pagan but this man did not know the meaning of taking anything seriously or taking possible dangerous situations to heart. This was a man who could probably dine at the same table where he had just killed a man and act like nothing happened. Remnants of brain matter and flesh of said killed man could be in his Crab Rangoon and Pagan would probably eat around it before adding a ‘funny’ antidote about losing one’s head over dinner or something. It was hardly necessary to expect him to react to a glare but made Ajay feel better enough about the whole situation. He could still show hate towards Pagan he was sure. It was hate, wasn't it? He didn't need to convince himself it was or so he told himself.

“Oh don't be that way, Ajay. I just have your best interest at heart.” Pagan admitted almost sincerely as he patted the side of Ajay’s face like he would a child although Ajay turned away to avoid leaning into it. It'd be a cold day in hell for him to lean into the touch of former Kyrati dictator, Pagan Min,…right? _Right?_ Despite Ajay’s clear reluctance to be touch Pagan continued to speak after patting his head.

“That little tantrum was the reason I felt I had to resort to such measures. Even I, with all of my graced patience, know that you're a handful after all. You wallowed in shit for so long that you've gotten a _taste_ for it. No matter, I'm here to set you on the right path, my boy, and it's hardly 'fool’s gold'," Pagan nearly sneered at the mere mention of anything Golden Path related, even his insults to them put a bad taste in his mouth but that was the past and he was here now and he had more important priorities to concern himself with, "Huh, I mean, who is going to take you seriously when you look like you just walked out of a fucking Old Navy store, am I right?” Pagan asked his armed men in few number bemusedly and these men remained silent at the former king’s jubilant behavior from his own humor but nodded in agreement for the sake of their lives. How an unarmed man can induce fear in the hearts of armed military trained men was a sight of pure awe and devastation. Either way, Ajay was hardly afraid or amused at this point.

“What the fuck is that supposed to-“ Ajay's question was caught in his throat when he looked down to see his clothes weren't his own. He was sporting a suit. A custom made one at that he figured as it looked as gaudy as Pagan’s minus the color and editions made.

“Where are my clothes?” Ajay felt a ting of panic within. It unnerved him to be out of his own clothes and gear and even more so that someone else is the reason while he was assumed to be unconscious? Ajay still didn't really know how he got here. Drugged? Knocked out? A combination of the two somehow…probably. It was being in Noore’s fucking arena for the first time all over again except this time he wasn't ass naked. Whatever deity made that possible Ajay would thank when he was out of this current situation. It was a huge assumption to think he would get of this situation alive but he lasted this far and if Pagan wanted him dead he would've never woken up from whatever encounter gotten him here in the first place. To say the least his safety was not a prime concern...yet. Ajay wasn't dead but he didn't know Pagan's intentions yet either and this was a man dangerous enough to not only demand control and was given power with nothing but his presence and voice but armed men feared him when he was probably equipped with nothing more than his beloved pen. Ajay would remain cautious and guarded but even if did he didn't have any weapons and he was restrained. Maybe he should worry about his safety a little more than he had been?

“Heavens if I know, boy, Gary took care of everything.” Pagan admitted. King or no he didn't _do_ things he didn't need to or felt unnecessary apparently. That probably included undressing and dressing Ajay apparently. Maybe it just wasn't important enough; Ajay guessed but figured this was probably a man who didn't even dress himself. Such details were irrelevant now as Ajay’s mind geared towards this Gary guy. The man standing behind Pagan raised his hand from his gun like giving a lame wave and hello at prom night while standing at the wall waiting for a dance partner or something. Ajay never saw the face before but the name rang a bell from past phone calls by Pagan he was sure. Gary seemed to carry a lot of the weight of caring for Pagan, poor sonuvabitch. Ajay looked back to Pagan who rolled his eyes and breathed a near silent sigh.

“Such a greedy little shit, aren't you? I gave you all of Kyrat but I couldn't give you Gary. He oh-so caters to my needs. Like the start on my laws, my first aid, my drugs and all that. So, when he cares for me he cares for you and I needed him to care for you. Do you see how excellent his service is? You're barely bound to leave a mark and the suit doesn't have a wrinkle to show for you're predicament. Such a good lad, a very good lad.” Pagan praised the poor bastard like he was a puppy or something. Despite that Gary remained silent by the the almost uncharacteristic praise. That near demeaning praise clearly went to Gary’s head as his stoic expression softened. Was this dude blushing over this shit?

“Anyway, if you behave we can appreciate the new look together in the dressing room and have some fun afterwards. You know, tear shit up, _or_ , you can be a rebellious little shit and remain as you are, boring.” Another chance to choose. Ajay's heart began to quicken as it was something about being able to choose; being given a chance to choose. It could easily be said that Ajay had very little choice throughout his journey to Lakshmana given he was being dicked around by two leaders who clearly hated each other and clashed like hot and cold. The only time Ajay truly realized his decisions mattered was when he had to make them with Pagan. It was during their first meeting, their 'last' meeting and now were just major examples. Choice started and ended with Pagan in this country and it made Ajay feel a little conflicted. He was supposed to hate this man but Pagan was making it harder to do so; even when continued to fucking abduct him. Being given choice was something that was clearly taken for granted because sitting in the moment in restraints and in the mercy of his abductor Ajay couldn't muster a need for anything but to focus on that. What did he want to do? No matter the choice the results would mean _he_ made it happen and that was a kind of power the inner clutches of Kyrat did not grant him at all. Ajay felt warmth blossom in his chest from this epiphany and then he realized he could relate a little to that Gary guy after all. I mean Pagan clearly had an affect on people and he could make shitting on you feel like praise. What the fuck was wrong with him? He could relate to the poor fuck under Pagan’s beckin call and it made his head spin. No more drugs. Ever.

Ajay was silent for a moment to think back to the matter at hand-what was he going to do? It actually wasn't really a choice though when he thought about it because the answer was obvious. Freedom was always preferred over the unpredictability of confinement. Being a ‘rebellious little shit’ wouldn't get him out of these restraints nor would it get him back his clothes. Evaluating the situation in its entirety Ajay couldn't pull any mission escape ideas either because he had no clue where he was, how he got here, how to get out and all of his weapons have been taken. Actually, he did still have a choice but the right one was obvious as hell. What would being rebellious do for him in this situation? Ajay's brows furrowed as he signed deeply.

“Let's get this over with.” Ajay had sounded completely defeated but the edge of his annoyance never was left to question. Delighted by the answer Pagan was quick to help Ajay to his feet by lifting him up from under an arm. Though if it were for the younger man's sake or the sake of the custom suit to avoid wrinkling it was left to be determined. Maybe it was for his sake because Pagan had been very gentle handling Ajay's restraints as well, taking them a loose with sweet touch and thoughtful care that could be comparable to handling expensive lace or thin glass. Ajay was unbound and it was a relief, sweet fucking _relief_.

“Well, come on then.” Pagan encouraged Ajay to follow with the wave of his hand. It was a hesitant first step but not out of fear but the fact that he was willing without much of a fight. He only knew Pagan as an apparent 'monstrous' dictator and only a small glimpse of him as just a man and not a king and yet he didn't find it difficult to listen. Pagan was just Pagan and he was someone who just so happened to be a man Ajay did not have the full capacity to hate or kill. It was like some weird form of trust that ajay had no fucking clue when it even began to form. Was it their first meeting during that awkward selfie or after the point of Pagan's farewell? Was it something in between? Or was it Pagan's constant presence in Ajay's life since he entered Kyrat? It was weird but it could've happened anytime and that was scarier than Ajay's unquestioned obedience. The only weight to Ajay's feet were his steps forward; following Pagan in full step now. The sound of his own footsteps were foreign to his ears as he's been put in expensive shoes. Really expensive shoes with great arch support and cushion and-what the hell-were they snakeskin on the outside? Ajay's mind wondered silently of the type of skin of his new shoes as they approached their destination and Pagan was silently content with how well groomed Kyrat's new king was. It was ab out fucking time.

\--- 

Entering the dressing room Ajay was pretty impressed with how well decorated and furnished it was. The back wall was dressed with huge mirrors to capture different angles of the viewer and there were shelves and shelves of shoes, storage and accessories. It was like a palace sized walk in closet with racks and racks of expensive suits and other clothing hanging-about 3 to for levels high and rails as long as the room itself. There was a faint aroma of jasmine in the air and this dressing room had the nerve to have separate rooms like a bathroom and a closet within a damn closet and other rather unnecessary details. That was Pagan Min, insanely excessive with the unnecessary, Ajay thought. He didn't dwell on his thought for long as the sound of the doors of the room closing had startled him from the workings of his mind. The armed men that had followed the duo to the room were stationed outside for...a means of protection perhaps? Ajay could still hear the rustling of their armor and metal and the muffled noises of voices. So, this room wasn't sound proof. Not that it mattered, they didn't need it to be. Ajay wasn't thinking about reasons why they would need it to be, he really wasn't. 

The trust Pagan put in Ajay was something really astounding. Here they were alone in a dressing room-although not soundproof-and all the while Ajay had all he needed to finally kill Pagan should he feel the need to. Ajay was a trained fighter and he didn't need a knife or gun to kill a man. His bare hands would be enough but the thought either didn't occur to the former king or he didn't care. Probably the latter. Pagan didn't seem like the type to worry himself over the immediate threat of others. Did he even consider anyone else a threat? Either way, even if he did and was the type to acknowledge the threat of others then he never felt the need to be that way towards Ajay. Maybe he was special? That made Ajay feel like he was special despite the lack of knowing Pagan enough to be sure it was just him or if everyone was unimportant enough to be off the former king's radar. Even in theory the thought of being special began to add color to the younger man's cheeks although Ajay blamed the heat under his skin on the temperature of the room. It was actually a comfortable level-Pagan absolutely hated to sweat and was one of the many reasons he resided in the northest part of Kyrat-but anything was a better reason than the real one. any lie would do.

“I had it made as I said I would. You remember, don't you? I'm sure you thought I'd forgotten but no, my boy, the robes of a king do not rest on the idea of finding its king to dress,” Pagan paused clasping his hands together with somewhat of a grin on his face, "Dashing, am I right? You really do look like royal, Ajay. Spitting image." There was a the sound of affectionate pride in the former king's voice and he looked the part like contentment could only be found in the accomplishments of his pupil. Not that Pagan wasn't living vicariously through Ajay or anything absurdly foolish like that, he was the fucking king for years already and did a damn fine job of it, but he did feel happy to see what he passed down has graced the boy with something magnificent and grand. Ajay was destined for greatness in Pagan's eyes. 

"Well, what do you think?" Pagan stared at Ajay with anticipation of his answer like it was most important bit of information in the world. Nothing else seemed to matter in this moment than hearing the younger man's thoughts about his gift. Ajay _could_ say how he really felt about the suit but he had a feeling someone's life was on the line and would face death at his displeasure. The poor fucker who tailored this order and probably his family to boot. He'd bite the bullet on this one. Ajay already got a celebrity chef and...or?-his family killed before. No need to keep adding indirect casualties to the list. It's not like Ajay had planned to live in the damn suit or something like that. The suit was a striking burgundy red and a soft tone pink shirt underneath. It was accompanied by those dark brown snakeskin shoes Ajay noticed earlier. Even for someone else Pagan couldn't stray far from his beloved pink. Ajay thought castleton green was more his thing but that's hardly the issue at hand. He'd worry about his almost pretentious precision of color names later.

“Uhh it's fine, I guess.” Ajay further observed the suit and realized the front jacket had…pockets? Fucking pockets? Not just one for a pocket square or two 'fashion' pockets that had zero utility and were just present for the look but actual deep reach pockets that looked like they were confiscated from a fishing jacket. The color was the least of his worries.

“...What are the pockets for?” Pagan looked dramatically taken aback at Ajay not realizing the specialty of his customized additions that came from the heart. The _heart_ , dammit, and damn good memory.

“Why it's the pockets for those handfuls of meat you flounder around about with all the time like some fucking caveman. I figured a hunter like yourself could use the extra…storage.” Pagan emphasized the final word with some means of disapproval. He always wanted better for Ajay and running around like a madman within the world of Kyrat wasn't in his plans. Clearly, Ajay needed more from life _but_ if he absolutely had to run around like a lunatic he'd have the proper suit for it at least. Hunting in style is the least he could do as 'denims and fucking sneakers' wouldn't cut it as far as Pagan was concerned.

“You actually expect me to hunt in this? It'll look like the foliage is bleeding…” There was frustrated disbelief in Ajay's voice and the result was quite the bout of deep toned laughter from the former king.

“Style, my boy, isn't something to disregard. Even drenched in yak’s blood I looked fucking fabulous covered in it.” Freaks. Ajay was surrounded by freaks and he may end up as one of him if he stayed too long. Or maybe he already was? Any remaining bit of himself before Kyrat had been scattered with his mother’s ashes. The normal Ajay hadn't existed anymore and what was left was...what was here right now dressed too similarly to Pagan to be comfortable. Yeah, he was a freak now because that bullshit Pagan unashamedly admitted didn't make him cringe. He could only imagine the sight and it was probably as awe inducing as I was repulsive. Best to dismiss such thoughts; such fucking madness.

“Well then, enrich yourself in all of it, Ajay. All of this," Pagan said with theatrical enthusiasm as he referred to Ajay's reflection of his wonderful new look, "Absorb it all in and then get yourself ready so we can try them out.” Pagan offered and Ajay was to say the least confused. Test out what-oh...it all became painfully clear. What else could this madman be referring to.

“You mean the pockets.” Ajay replied flatly. It wasn't a question really, it didn't need to be. They were going to test out fucking pockets?

“Did you really think I'd have this suit custom made and not see it in action? You underestimate me again, boy.” Ajay stared at the former king questioningly and was greeted with a challenging look back.

“Do you want your stuff back or not? Rather boring if you don't. I'd love to see what kind of skill had the ability to willingly bring Kyrat to her knees and have her bow to.” Pagan always knew exactly what to say to grant a situation in his favor. He was the best kind of con man in Ajay's eyes. Someone with the approachablity to lure a person in and the intelligence to talk them into _anything_. What made it all worse was Pagan was always very honest and sincere of his intentions not matter how despicable they were. He never felt the need to put on a mask to cover up his desires and it made it even easier to fall for. Ajay fell for it every fucking time. 

“Wait, what-you're coming along? With me? Hunting? _You_?” Pagan may have been a tyrant but Ajay could hardly imagine him being the hunter type. Sure he killed countless people, indirectly or not, but it was hard to see the image of Pagan Min scowling the lands and seeking out prey. It was so personal-intimate-one might say. It wasn't even the pink suit Pagan sported that made Ajay feel unsure but how he carried himself and his priorities. This was a man that bitched about getting blood on his shoes after killing another man for a simple case of miscommunication. Sure, Pagan had the precision, reflexes and cold lust to kill but did didn't mean he knew how to hunt. Stationary, fearful men under his power were not the same as wild animals that killed indiscriminately on instinct. Pagan rolled his eyes, hands met with hips. That right there was probably evidence of Ajay's justified doubt and he was in no mood to have to save Pagan's ass. He wouldn't kill him but Ajay drew the line at actively saving him...probably. Well, either way he didn't want to do it.

“Does the day end by night, boy? Of _course_ I'm coming to see this ambitious design reach fruition. Don't insult me. I told you we'd tear shit up together and hunting’s a start in the right direction.” Pagan’s lips stretched into a slanted smirk with a slight nod of his head. He was serious? What the hell? Ajay getting back his gear meant that he would be armed. Did Pagan really trust Ajay that much? Enough to change their dynamic of power; to actively endanger his own life by putting weapons in the hands of his captor? Ajay remained silent but he nodded. Whether an opportunity to finally take him out or not he wasn't going to let a chance at freedom roll by him idly without acting on it. Yes, that's what he told himself.

“Gary!," there was silence that answered back and Pagan seemed annoyed and felt the need to yell even louder, "Gary! Get the copter ready! And don't forget to get the fucking weapons this time!” Pagan yelled as he headed towards the door of the dressing room. His stance as he walked was graceful but radiated power and demanded obedience. Ajay hadn't noticed before but Pagan's footsteps were damn near silence as he watched the former king walk off yelling demands of his poor care giver. Now that he mentioned this to himself he didn't hear Pagan walking ahead of him either on their way to the dressing room. Was this man purposefully stealthing around the place? Maybe Pagan was more trained than Ajay had assumed? Pagan's voice began to fade as he existed the room with the mention of getting Ajay's things and a little something for himself. That and a barely audible mention of needing the burlap sack again.

\---

“I didn't expect you to be good at this.” Ajay panted, after he and Pagan had just taken down another bear. Another _fucking_ bear. Ajay had all of his supplies and gear returned to him-from his guns to his bow and arrows- but to his surprise Pagan suggested to kill all prey with ‘the will of a warrior’ or some shit he had heard on a documentary Yuma had within her things. Some old shit that, Pagan explained, mentioned no matter the prey-even if a man eating giant- it were to be killed with nothing but a fucking knife and the will behind the knife. That will was said to be able to take down anything if there was a strong enough warrior wielding it. Ajay didn't have a clue what any of this 'warrior' stuff meant exactly but it was actually one helluva takedown. It was adrenaline rushing and exhilarating to hunt this way and each successful hunt felt like it was empowering. Hunting big game like bears, tigers and crazy ass honey badgers with nothing but a knife was something powerful and could almost make a man hunger for this kind of rush. Yuma studied all sorts of tactics and combat so it didn't surprise Pagan in the least of what he learned from her. She was basically his second-in-command, he didn't expect anything less from her capabilities or knowledge. So loyal for so long. If only it were to the end. Pagan spoke of Yuma like it were yesterday that he was talking to her with a nostalgic smile on his face that was speckled with bear’s and tiger's blood and a few strands of course, dark fur. He had missed his second in command, Ajay was sure of it, yet Pagan chose him? Pagan had known Yuma since his youth and they both seemed to cherish each other the best two people like them could and yet he chose Ajay. The same Ajay that was barely a toddler upon their first meeting-with half the blood of the man that attempted to take his life no less-and then never seen again after his mother fled with him to the USA. Well, at least until now after all of…this happened. Ajay didn't even remember the man nor heard a word of him by his mother’s mouth in the US yet Pagan had kept the memory alive as he was doing with Yuma now. Maybe more so. It was strange but it made Ajay feel important if that was the proper word. Fuck, he was getting sicker by every second he spent with this man. Ajay slightly shook his head almost comically to get the thoughts out. He could swear he could almost see the words; visualize the images and all of that. Holy shit.

Ajay’s custom suit’s pockets were full to the brim with animal meat. It was a variety of bear, tiger and honey badger meat and it was pretty disgusting if Ajay could admit it. He preferred the less personal bait bag over having the still warm meat close to his body like this. Ajay stood fully erect after he caught his breathe from their latest successful hunt to look over to Pagan when he heard a sound of approval from him.

“Hm, expect nothing less from Pagan Min, Ajay. How do you think I acquired all of that yak’s blood I bathed in so many years ago? It didn't fall out of the fucking sky and I didn't expect monkeys to do it right. Reformation, Ajay, I'll have to teach you sometime." Pagan explained so casually as he gathered his composure. Even after manic knife hunting the man was dead set on keeping himself kept well and proper. Clothing left out of place and unacceptable was unacceptable. 

"You know, a kill with the least amount of damage gave the most blood, you see. It meant more and felt more personal and accomplishing to have gotten the blood myself with all the snowballing inner rage and dark thoughts I had after Ishwari left. Oh Ajay, I learned more than you think when I was getting all of those feeling out of my system. I had never had a more lucid perception of my life at the time. A saving grace from the darkness.” Pagan had continued such horror so casually that it felt like a chat over dinner. Even with this man’s clothes disheveled, dirty and bloody he still had an approachable, weird friendliness that was scarier than any man who showed his insanity on the outside. The fucker was unpredictable as Ajay learned and he felt dread thinking that this was the man he tried to kill multiple times and considered able to kill now. This was the man that gave him a choice to kill him. This man who had a chance to kill Ajay himself yet did not and apparently didn't want to. A wave of disturbing warmth flowed through his chest. He wanted to hit a hole in his chest so bad right now but the damned meat chunks would cushion the blow.

“So, like the pockets, boy? I had them lined with special material to avoid the damned blood from leaking all over you and such. Huh, guess it doesn't matter when you get the fucking suit in such disarray hunting though now does it?” Pagan quipped with a breath of laughter. Said the man that insisted they only use knives in the first place, Ajay thought to himself.

“I was wondering why my clothes weren't wet with blood. Well, from the pockets anyway.” Ajay didn't bother to fix his clothes, he didn't give a shit what he looked like. He was in a damned red suit like he was on Broadway; he didn't give a shit. Pagan on the other hand felt there was a need to clean up his look. He dusted off his clothes and straightened them up then stood tall. With a graceful combing of his hair with his fingers he cleared his throat.

“And?” Pagan was expecting something and Ajay knew. He shouldn't know but he does and it slightly pissed him off that he did.

“Yeah, I like them.” Pagan smiled warmly. It was like discovering a new creature as the expression was genuine and swelled with pride. It was then at strong wave of warmth overcame Ajay again but with great intensity. _Fucking hell_.

“Of course you do. Good thing too or that tailor and his entire family would be dead otherwise.” Pagan made it sound so natural to commit to such words. He didn't even hesitant to say them and Ajay knew he meant it. A spike of guilt made Ajay realize he had forgotten to like the suit regardless to save lives of the poor souls involved opposed to actually liking it. He was lucky the damned pockets actually were a nice addition.

“Anyway, now that we know you approve I'll have more made. A king needs style, Ajay. Remember that and you'll be able to distinguish yourself from all the monkeys and shit around you. Ishwari knew that more than anyone. Her sense of style was a different kind. Maybe beyond her time here. Head strong and stubborn as hell, huh, sounds familiar.” Pagan was working his sleeves into a more presentable state at the cuffs as he spoke and Ajay remained silent and still. He was stuck in his thoughts and he was always dangerously detached when he did this. Detached from those around him, the environment and sometimes even from himself. Sometimes he didn't even know what he was doing until he was in the midst of doing it so admittedly Ajay had qualms with dipping deep into his thoughts around others or during more pressing matters but he couldn't help it this time. Pagan had spoken the magic spell: Ajay's mother. She was really gone and while Ajay was trying to process his life now and how he felt about the former king Pagan was here keeping her live as he did Yuma prior and who knew who else was in the catacombs of this flamboyant man's mind and heart. It hadn't mattered though because the one person that got under Ajay's skin the most was the mention of his mother. He didn't know why but it did. Before he knew what was happening he was hugging Pagan from behind with one hand connected by the others wrist. When he finally realized what he did Ajay held his breath and remained still as though he just come across a dangerous, wild animal and one wrong move would end his life with a claw swipe or ferocious bite to the jugular. Ajay was waiting from someone, _anyone_ , to just fucking take him out of his new found misery.

Pagan didn't even flinch from the unexpected embrace. He just smiled small and calm before resting a hand on where Ajay’s were they met; just above his waist. Ajay calmed his rigid body from the small gesture and was relieved death wouldn't be necessary to escape such mortification. For once Pagan being the smug bastard he is-acting as though he knew the sign of affection was on its way-was something Ajay could appreciate. This little moment between them gave Ajay the strength he needed to finally speak.

“Don't mention her like that when you're with me.” Ajay's voice wasn't callous or cold but quiet. Although he loved his mother dearly he didn't want Pagan speaking of her when he was around. It wasn't jealousy, he knew-thank heavens he knew-but he didn't want to become a vessel. A mere replacement of what his mother was to fill in the holes where she left off. It seemed so silly and somewhat childish even but he felt that way. He nuzzled his face into the back of Pagan’s shoulder and held the older man in a slightly tighter grip. Pagan's age wasn't apparent from the embrace as he felt young and with a broad torso and tone muscle. It was like grabbing onto power personified and it was a comfort Ajay longed for since he reached the godforsaken lands of Kyrat. Now that he had Pagan within his embrace he felt like he wanted to do this for a long time. A really fucking long time. It felt _good_.

“Hmph, a king already are you? Giving me orders like that.” Pagan teased with his voice just as quiet. It was nothing but silence, the ambivalent twilight between day and night and the animal meat. Oh, the damned meat in Ajay’s pockets that was just another obstacle obstructed the contact that he and Pagan desired. It was fucking gross and warm and due to having so much it protruded from the pockets like firm, tight bulges and-

“Ajay-“

“Don't you fucking dare say a word, it's the damned meat.” Pagan laughed, a rich sound that rumbled in Ajay’s ears and vibrated into his chest; through him really. This was a peaceful moment that miraculously not ruined by Pagan's bad taste in jokes. It was nice and Ajay wouldn't admit that he wouldn't mind if it lasted longer but they had a rendezvous point to return to soon. They both knew that but time seemingly stood still.

“Of course it is.” Pagan replied with amusement laced in his voice.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading this and I hope all enjoyed it. I am a sucker for the ending that has Pagan live so I based this story after that. After completing the game and seeing the Valley's of the Yeti DLC content I had to write something Pajay because the fandom is bone dry of these kind of fics.content to be honest. I found only a handful of them and I was sad lol It's my otp so thought I'd contribute. I'm kind of fuzzy with writing fanfiction so sorry if anything isn't a quality standard. I tried to keep the characters intact based on how much a player can learn of them through the game. 
> 
> I made a few headcanons for myself for this story. Like Gary for example since I don't think we ever actually see or hear this guy in the game? I find it amusing he's like Pagan's right hand underdog or something. And Pagan's relationship with Yuma and stuff. I personally think they were close or something. Not sure if there's evidence in the game but whether it is or not I always believed this due to how they spoke about each other. I don't know, I'm sure that's everyone's headcanon though. I'd like to think he missed her despite choosing Ajay over her and he kept a lot of her stuff after her death. Also, the biggest headcanon for me would be Pagan still around with some sort of Kyrati power in a location known only to a few and is the reason for Ajay to be kidnapped. I mean where the hell else is he going to go? I don't think America is an option based on what Willis reveals but maybe somewhere else but I just like this idea lol I like the thought of him staying around to mold Ajay into a king or whatever. Another is Pagan is very combat capable with some FC3 reference in there. He's hardcore af I can't imagine Pagan not being able to hold himself in combat. And of course my headcanon and Amita and Sabal are gone (you can kill them both?) and Ajay no longer is an active part of the Golden Path but he's staying behind to fix Kyrat I guess? (I'm rambling...)
> 
> I apologize in advanced for any spelling to grammar errors. I wrote this on my phone and even if I proofread 80 times I'll still miss something plus autocorrect is a bitch. Please bare with me. There's probably errors in this end note lol
> 
> Liked it? Hated it? Feel free to let me know! Feel free to check out my tumblr, I accept prompts!


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